


Missed You More

by cipherninethousand



Series: Outlander AU [2]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, KOTFE reunion, Zabrak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 12:05:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8101762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cipherninethousand/pseuds/cipherninethousand
Summary: It's been a long five years since Andronikos saw his wife, and now he's seeing her face in the zabrak he meets in a bar.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a response to a Tumblr prompt, asking for a KOTFE reunion between Andronikos and the Sith Inquisitor. I used my lovely lady H'ashura, found here: cipherninethousand.tumblr.com/chars
> 
> Feel free to join me on Tumblr, or send me a prompt if you want!

Five years of crap sleep and crap rations. Sleep hadn't exactly been plentiful before he'd joined up with H'ashura, but since she left it comes less and less. Andronikos doesn't trust medics to knock him out. Too many enemies. Too many eyes glaring him down. So, drinking until he drops seems like a better plan. At least that way, he can shoot someone who gets too close.

Like this person. The only thing Andronikos can tell is that they're zabrak; he can just make out the faint bumps of their horns beneath the dark gray hood, or maybe that's just the whiskey making him fuzzy. Zabrak cause a lump in his throat, make Andronikos think of her. 'Specially the way that the stranger's coming-of-age tattoos turn to three sharp points beneath their lower lip when they lean forward.

“What's the protocol for asking a pirate out for a drink?” She asks, and man, that drink must really be fucking with him now. Can't be her. Sith Empress declared her KIA years ago with Marr.

She cocks her head to one side, curious. Crap. Musta said that last bit out loud. “Sorry.”

She smiles, but Andronikos can't see if it goes to her eyes. “No need to be sorry.”

Andronikos does the smart thing here, knocking back the last of his drink. He's finally fuzzy. Warm, buzzed enough that this little trip down memory lane might help him sleep for real. Dream about H'ashura. Yeah. That'd be good. He doesn't remember much after that.

-...-

When he wakes, Andronikos is definitely not in his hotel. He's laid out on a couch. Someone has draped a cool cloth over his eyes and a too short blanket over him, boots pulled off. They've even taken a chance to put a pillow under his head, soft – hang on, that's not a pillow. Those don't curve up over one side of his head to rise and fall, in and out like...like breathing.

One night stand?

Wait, no. There would be no clothes, then. Ever so carefully, Andronikos peels back the cloth from his eyes to reveal a blessedly dim room. There's no dry mouth. No pain threatening to split his head in two, which he guesses is a blessing all by itself. He glances down at the blanket. As it turns out, it's not a blanket at all, but a too short cloak that would probably be dark gray in better light.

Maybe he went back with that zabrak. The thought draws up that lump in his throat again, the same one from last night. He almost doesn't want to look at them, but he was hammered and confirmation of his fuck up seems necessary. Andronikos swallows, bending his head back to get a look at the person – they're still sleeping, seems like.

Just a little more, until he can just barely make out the three points of familiar ink on her chin, three horns that go up into her hair, two spiking outward from her temples. Same tattoo. Same thick, dark hair but longer, spilling in a single plait over the shoulder furthest from him. _Damn._ H'ashura's even wearing the same jewelry on her horns, delicate twinkling gold that tremble with each breath she takes.

“Holy shit.” Andronikos hisses.

It's then H'ashura's eyes snap open, legs tensing beneath him, arms coiling for battle. But there's nothing there and the battle rage just fizzles out.

He offers a fond 'crazy Sith' for her trouble; her face softens until she's smiling at him and a hand cups his cheek. “Pirate.”

“You've been gone awhile.”

“You have no idea.”

There's a hundred questions. A thousand, if Andronikos were honest about it, even though words suck and there are things he'd rather be –

“Hmm.”

H'ashura presses her lips to Andronikos' forehead and his brain shorts out. He's gotta have her lips on his, been too long, this position sucks for changing that. Thankfully, it's easy enough to drop between her knees on the floor, pulling her face to his so there can be better things. Kisses. Tongue. A hint of H'ashura's sharp teeth against Andronikos' bottom lip, so that he hums into her mouth.

Eventually, she slides down on the floor with him, both on their knees. It doesn't last long, H'ashura pushing at him with the Force until Andronikos lays on his back. She straddles him and takes one more kiss.

They can talk later. For now, skin is a priority. But it doesn't stop him from whispering, “Missed you,” between kisses and eager hands until H'ashura finally says, “Missed you more.”


End file.
